Stake Your Claim

Tags

Challenges, Dedication, Future, Goals, Living, Planning, Reward, Sacrifice

I’ll never forget the day I took that slow, deep breath in – inhaling my reality. My chest swelled as my lungs reached capacity. I forcefully held the air inside them in an attempt to freeze the moment. It was happening. My head began to spin from my attempt to suffocate the realization creeping through my body. My heart was rhythmically drumming in its engorged cavern. That feeling was back, a little more aggressive this time. I knew it was only a matter of time before this happened; this moment was inevitable. It had been taunting me for a while and up until a few months ago, I was successful at silencing its deafening demands. This time however, I had met my match. I exhaled the fear and began to accept that…

…it was time to stop existing and start living.

When you exist you play the part. You do what is asked while mundanely moving through the days. Life almost feels scripted with predetermined climactic moments and a tragic ending. It’s an acceptable and comfortable place to be. Now, shuffle to the right and you have living. Living is a place where your body thrives on the high of excitement just as much as it craves the low of pain. It’s a place where the mind is clear, focused and balanced. Where acceptance, understanding, humility, and patience reign. It’s vibrant, warm, and full of love. It’s a place where every moment and opportunity are respected and experienced.

I had been cat calling and chasing away grandiose plans of self fulfillment and valuable societal contributions for months; actually, being completely honest, it was probably closer to years. I had been gently pawing at ideas, wants, and desires that were shelved just out of my reach. I had placed these dreams on intangible pedestals, longing for their integration into my life while living in their shadows. Fear held me in lockdown. It confined me in a place of existence where I torturously worked an unfulfilling job and surrounded myself with people, places and things that repressed me. I wasn’t living, I was existing – surviving at best.

So what happened? How did a morning no different from any other result in a jarring awakening that catapulted me into living?

At the time, I was unknowingly falling in love with a woman who was causing me to defy complacency; forcing me to be honest and pick myself apart. I was tired of the back and forth games of cat and mouse that were leaving me panting at the hole in the wall, waiting for the next round. I had constructed a superficial world of contentment around myself that distracted me from the shelves above my head. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy. I was living a newfound life of acceptance and appreciation but I was ultimately unfulfilled. I suppressed urges and desires out of fear. Fear of failure and fear of the unknown. I had gained a renewed perspective from observing and after a series of repetitive conversations about my underlying discontentment, my longing for change finally erupted.

What made this morning different from the others was that I didn’t sit on what was happening this time. I didn’t manically ramble about all the things I wanted to change and do only to let it dwindle into glowing embers – the aftermath of a raging fire. I didn’t get on the step stool and safety tuck it out of arms reach on the shelves with the rest of the “unattainable” dreams. I actioned it. I created a plan. I began to break ground for the foundation of the upcoming change. I gave it an entity.

The shift to living and the committment to change did not come effortlessly. The attachment I had to the execution and success of my plan caused excruciating suffering at times, especially when I was faced with unexpected adversities and set-backs. However, I used that pain and weakness to rebuild strength and adapt the plan to the unforseen circumstances. I refused to submit. Almost a year later, I am proud to report the fruits of my labour. I am, almost, exactly where I set out to be - minus a small savings of tuition money for Saydee’s recent surgery. A surreal reward for devotion. I want to say that I was lucky that things worked out the way they did but the truth is, luck had nothing to do with it. Dedication, perseverance and sacrifice brought me to where I am today and allowed my plan to explode into fruition. Almost like one of those lessons our parents try to teach us early in life.

Reflecting on all of this, I can’t help but wonder why it took me so long. I know we get to where we’re meant to be when we’re ready but do we regretfully hold ourselves back out of fear? This also makes me wonder where you are right now. What side of life are you staking your claim in? If you’re simply existing with your head in the clouds, ask yourself why? Is there something, someone or somewhere that you’re longing for but keep tucking it away until you’re ready? What better time to start giving your desires an entity than now…

Hanging High

*Note — This was meant to be posted two days ago. Shocking, I know.*

The alarm goes off…It’s 0413. I smack the vile little beast around at least once or twice for disrespecting my need for sleep. After its third offensive screaming fit, I begrudgingly drag myself out of bed and stumble through the dark. I blindly swat at the wall in attempt to find the cord for my lamp. The snap of the switch causes me to recoil like a stunned cockroach as the first sliver of light stings my groggy eyes. I groan. The kids squint at me with their cracked eyes and disapproving glares for disturbing their sleep. And so it begins, another day.

I’m a creature of habit, a Virgo through and through. My Monday to Friday routine has been the same for years now and the longer I do it, the more I realize that it has slowly, albeit painfully at times, transformed itself into a part of my make up. It’s such a natural part of my process now that I almost forget that it all started with a need, a test of will, and the formation of a habit. Now, deviation from this routine irritates me and causes me to feel displaced; an uncomfortable and unsettling feeling of weakness and frustration. However, this wasn’t always the case. In the beginning, there was enough cupboard slamming that I’m sure it’s the reason IKEA now has the silent shutting cupboard and drawers and an unnatural amount of hostility and anger. How could I have been so upset about something I was choosing to do?

Fast forward to today and those feelings of irritation, displacement, weakness, and frustration that arise if my new habit has been altered have started to creep their way into my daily being. I’ve been grappling with an unfocused mind that is slowly becoming overwhelmed with its inability to settle. With so much love, excitement, and optimism flowing through my veins right now how is it possible to have these debilitating feelings latching onto me? My usual remedy of a hard morning run and a torturous lifting session has not been able to dilute the thickness of this. As a result, it has caused an increase in the debilitation. So here I sit, framed by the window of my favourite local coffee shop, manically drinking Americanos while listening to James Blake, and desperately searching for a resolution. Why can’t I just…

Focus! I need to focus!

I’ve been trying to pinpoint the cause of my unrest; surely there has to be something I can trap under a glass, humanely release back into the universe and rid myself of. Why can’t I run, laugh or shrug it off? Why can’t I type it out? Why can’t I distract and ignore it? Why can’t I just stop thinking about it? Coles note conclusion: Because I’ve realized that it’s not just one little bastard I’m dealing with but rather a small army of aggravating circumstances. Because I’m currently undergoing a metamorphosis that is constantly causing emotional, behavioural, and even physical changes. Because I’m impatient. Some of these issues are out of my control and involve people and elements that I don’t have authority over to dictate, some I’ve put off for longer than I should have, and the rest have been a result of being, admittedly, too unmotivated or scared to deal with. So what’s the solution then, how do I adjust the lenses of my phoropter and regain a clear focus?

Baby steps. Cosmically I’m designed to need firm and definitive resolutions, I despise doing something tomorrow that I know I could have done yesterday, and don’t even get me started on feeling like I’m not in control. I need to keep it simple and start with the basics, write a list. Write multiple lists if needed! I need to challenge the heaviest contenders first but do so realistically.

With that said, I think we sometimes lose focus of the fact that feelings of restlessness, anxiety or frustration don’t always stem from negative circumstances. It seems like anticipation and excitement can quickly shift from positive to negative as soon as their expiry dates have passed. Do positive feelings really turn sour if left out too long? Ah! Nature’s gift to humans, the ability to switch focus to the negative. Regardless, a feeling of frustration for example, is still a feeling of frustration no matter how sexy you try to dress it up — hopefully it’s in a bow tie — and can still have the same fogging effect. My focus then needs to be on which manic mind items do I need to check off my list first in order to calm this frazzled brain of mine.

I tackled one giant and haunting bastard today which resulted in an afternoon of catharsis (Thanks, G). It was awkward and confusing at times but it felt good. Liberating. This resulted in a slightly drained but calmer state of being, a beautiful reunion walk with Saydee that was filled with random encounters with strangers and an intense love for the now. Baby steps. Remembering to take things on one at a time is critical. Focusing on forming new habits with a goal of prevention not reaction. Just like I didn’t start setting my alarm for 0413 every morning, five days a week, and standing outside waiting for those glorious door of my temple to open over night, I can’t expect to completely restructure my life with an unrealistic swiftness that will likely only set me up for failure. It’s been said that it takes 21 days to form a new habit, a generous amount of time to retrain one’s Self; to get excited, energized, overwhelmed, frustrated, and elated. I’ve let myself become distracted by the emotional elements of change and have lost sight of the fact that this is happening because I’m causing it to happen. I am choosing to make fundamental changes to my Self and my being and, because there has been so much positive, amazing energy surrounding me lately, forgetting that this isn’t always going to be easy or fun.

“And when it hurts the most, I’ll push a little more” – Lykke Li

Transition is a funny thing, it’s something most of us strive for — growth, challenge, and change — yet we often, and sometimes unknowingly, aggressively resist this process. We easily misconstrue what’s developing in front of us and confuse our emotions. We’re too hard on ourselves when we fail or when we lack, or lose, the motivation to succeed. What we forget is that this is okay. It’s okay to be manic, scared, lost, and confused. That it’s almost a gift of sorts, an opportunity to channel and use negative energy as a driving force towards the positive. We need to keep ourselves in check and remember that transformation isn’t free; it involves failure and requires dedication and perseverance. Even when the lights are out, you feel like the protagonist in a Kafka story, and you can’t fully appreciate what’s happening, metamorphosis really is a beautiful thing — painful mutations and all.

When You Can’t Go Right…

My eye has been bruised by a monocle and my hair has been kinked by a cap. I’ve been observing lately, a lot. Playing the role of detective while watching and listening to the creatures around me as they trek through their own explorations — examining and picking away at themselves. Some of them are open about what they’re experiencing, while others silently express their struggles and pain. Whether their internal workings escape verbally, emotionally, physically, or behaviourally a trend is emerging; a lot of people are going through a lot of shit right now. Maybe it’s because I’ve set the intention of attracting like minds therefore I’m receiving challenged souls into my presence or, maybe it really is the conscience awakening happening that a former client at my past job was telling me about. Either way, as painful as it is to not only experience this personally but to also watch others go through it, I like what’s happening.

As through any transformation, I get asked how am I doing quite a bit. My answer is instinctual, “I’m really good. Amazing actually!” I have moments where these words feel foreign to me. Happiness…Weird. I was recently asked how it feels to be happy. I struggled to find the words to properly express this current state of being. Happy…

Zen. Content. Peaceful. Sometimes bored. Aware. Calm. Satisfied.

It bothered me that I wasn’t able to immediately produce a deep and profound explanation for how I was feeling and that I actually had to think about it. Hesitation. How is happiness such a foreign concept for me? Have I really not been happy before? I quickly shook off my feeling of concern and redirected my eyes forward — it’s easy to slip backwards when you lose focus. For those creatures that are already sharing my euphoric state of happiness this answer is generally met with an ear to ear grin and sometimes a high-five (if I’m lucky); but, for my fellow explorers, it’s often followed with a question of “how?” The word choices falls from my tongue without warning. I choose to be happy.

I took an unbelievably amazing, and honestly life altering, yin yoga class last summer with an instructor named Bernie Clark at Semperviva Yoga. During this class, he talked about how drama is caused by personal reaction to external stimuli. So simple! We choose our current state of beings. Why then is it so hard for us to choose happiness as a constant? Does anyone truly and wilfully choose to be unhappy?

Humans are incredible at gravitating towards the negative. Fear drives, suppresses, and controls us. We’re generally so afraid of what we don’t know that we compromise our happiness as a result. We don’t want to suffer through the agony of failure, the fear of rejection, the distaste of sacrifice, or the pain of reality. In this case then yes, we do choose to be unhappy. A friend and I disagree on the basis of emotional response; the way we intrinsically respond, emotionally and physiologically, to stimuli. She believes that we have complete control over how we initially feel about a particular stimuli. I however, believe that we don’t have the ability to control how we initially feel about a specific trigger but we do have complete control over how we choose to react, channel, redirect, and respond to what we’re feeling. Thus the ability to choose happiness. Thanks, Bernie!

If we have choice over how we react then we have choice over how to change and prevent what pulls us away from happiness. Choice sometimes requires sacrifice. It requires an honest exam of the stimuli that causes distress and what control you have in altering its effect. It often means removing what causes the deviation from your life, be it temporarily or permanently. This choice in itself may cause distress but if the bigger picture has a long-term gain, then the sacrifice is worth the reward. It’s about letting go and accepting the things you cannot change. It’s about understanding the difference between desires, wants, and needs. It requires transforming fear and doubt into courage and strength. It means not compromising your non-negotiables. It requires you to be self focused. It requires control. It means not placing blame. It’s choosing to go left when you can’t go right. There’s always a choice.

I look at my friends in awe for their courage to forge through adversity with conviction on their quest to genuine happiness. I love them for their willingness to be open and share their journey. Their pain resonates deep with me — I get it. The exchange of vulnerability between us has given me the opportunity to strengthen my current state of being and validate my process. I see their struggles and failures and hold my breath for them remembering my own pain. I want their hearts to boom with the love and beauty waiting to swallow them whole.

My journey is far from over and has definitely not been easy. Some of what I have had to sacrifice burns deep and affects me daily but I accept that pain is a necessary evil in order to succeed. What makes it easier is the sense of peace I have from the choices I’ve made. That I’m living without regrets. How I find myself smiling at things that used to cause me pain. That my soul is starting to fill with restlessness and tingles with excitement again — it’s ready to be stimulated and challenged. Maybe I’m attracting these like-minded, challenged souls into my life as a way of being able to share my granola journey to happiness with those who truly understand. Maybe it’s a way to support those don’t think they’re strong enough to make fundamental changes to their lives. Either way, through pain and pleasure, I like what’s happening. Eyes are opening, worth is being determined, and lives are changing.

It’s pretty incredible, this power of choice.

The Day of Love

Tags

Being Open, Letting Go, Love, Singles Awareness Day, Valentine's day

Well Singletons, it’s here — Singles Awareness Day. The day where millions lament the loss of love and mourn over broken hearts. Regardless of my relationship status, Valentine’s Day has always been my least favourite of the corporate, consumerism holidays. It’s not because your mother barrages you with messages about how you haven’t given her grand babies yet, or that your sister reminds you that you’re single and going to be 28 this year; it’s because I strongly dislike the fact that people love one another more today because they’re told to. Seriously, please don’t love me just because Hallmark told you to. My only other gripe about today, and we might as well get it out of the way now, was getting to the gym this morning and seeing my ex-girlfriend’s car parked out front. Like, really?! On Valentine’s Day? Seriously.

This whole ‘day of love’ got me thinking about what love truly is. Is it really receiving overpriced flowers, tacky balloons, and cards filled with prefabricated words of affirmation? I didn’t wake up this morning down about the fact that I’m going to be sharing my evening with my gorgeous dog while watching Being Erica or, that there was no cute little sock monkey card waiting to vomit forced love all over me. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I hopped out of bed this morning and started drowning in all of the things that make my heart ::boom::

Love for me is weekend breakfast with my favourite souls. Daily morning wake up messages waiting for me on my phone. Being chivalrously charmed by babes. Laughing too hard and too loud with my girls. Random check-ins from friends. The way a simple act of kindness keeps me smiling all day. Creatures that embrace my love for and join in on fist pumping. Hugs that last just a little bit longer than normal. Late night phone gabs with soul friends. The smile returned when one is given. Traffic jam car dance parties. My list could go on and on…

I’ve always been a lover — I just love to love!

I’ve recently had to re-conceptualize my brain around what love is and means to me. What exactly is it that I need to have this warmth fill my soul. Since my early, tender dating days I have always been in a relationship. I defined myself by being part of a union and the idea of being alone used to terrify me. Because of this, I’ve spent most of my young adult life partnered up. That same fear is also what caused me to continually compromise my wants, needs, and desires — my Self. I had an awakening last year that forced me to turn myself inside out and find contentment from within. I realized my dependency on other people’s love was inhibiting me from experiencing the love I needed to have for myself. This was an incredibly painful but liberating feat. I’ve also come to accept that love sometimes disappoints and isn’t always as blatantly visible, or easy for that matter, as we would hope it to be but that it’s part of what makes love so beautifully challenging.

There was a period where I was terrified to be open again, wilfully exposing myself and being at the mercy of others. That jaded little wall of distrust and pain was slowly building around me. I was fueled by fear and hurt. Even out of the context of a lover, I wasn’t able to comprehend how trusting and accepting love was going to benefit me. What I quickly came to realize, thankfully, is that being open to love, in all of its incredible forms, is the only thing that truly does strengthen and expand the soul. Mumford and Sons say it best…

Love; it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be

There is a design, an alignment to cry
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be

This brings me to today — Singles Awareness Day. Sure it might be nice to be disgustingly cheesy and share a heart shaped pizza with a babe or whisper sweet nothings at each other during pillow talk but for the first time, I’m actually embracing my singleton status and experiencing the manifestation of love in unconventional ways. My sweet pea wifey is my Valentine and to celebrate this Day of Love we indulged a Purdy’s ice cream bar together. Friend love! I genuinely and wholeheartedly love all of the creatures in my life that I consider to be an extension of my being. This same genuine love creeps over to the newly acquired love I have for myself and for me, that’s being in love.

Whether or not you have the pleasure of being showered in the fromage factors of the corporate love machine or you proudly stand solo and empower yourself as a singleton, I hope you take a minute to appreciate all of the love in your life.

Because really, without love…we have nothing.

Inside Out

I’ve always been the kind of girl that does things backwards and against the grain. Tell me to go left and I’ll go right. Tell me to walk and I will run. Because of this, I shouldn’t be surprised that I find vulnerability so intriguing and attractive. There’s something about exposing the parts of yourself that you fight so hard to protect that is just so beautifully dangerous. Exciting almost. It’s like turning yourself inside out while holding a salt shaker — there’s a 50/50 chance that the salt will either get rubbed in or fall to the ground.

I see it as risk versus reward. When you take the path of least resistance you get what you expect, you are rarely blindsided and thrown off course. The path is relatively clear of obstacles and it’s comfortable, you’re shielded. But what about the other path, the one you walk down naked and exposed on? The one that offers the greater reward but comes at a higher risk of harm and failure.

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly
find out how far one can go. – T. S. Eliot

On the path of least resistance, harm and failure ricochet off your protective casing forming jagged piles of shrapnel all around you. You’re safe. The norm would be achieving and maintaining this protection but, being totally honest with myself (Honesty is after all the name of the game, isn’t it?), I’ve started to realize that I can’t accept safe. Safe for me is sheltered, it’s boring and leaves my soul aching for fulfillment. As masochistic as it sounds, I’ve started to appreciate the pain of the shrapnel deep within my skin. It’s this pain that makes the pleasure so much sweeter.

My life for the last couple of years has been unprotected and tainted with the unknown. It has been full of jumps instead of steps with my hands over my eyes praying for the best. I do it because if I try to plan I get scared. I over think. I let fear spin me in place and create a protective moat around me. Through it all, I tell myself…

“Without risk there is no reward.”

So I turn myself inside out, risking the pain of the shrapnel on my raw skin. I let myself feel the fear, anxiety, sadness, and worry because all of it is what pushes me forward, forcing me to strive for my potential. I willingly put myself in harm’s way for a chance at the greater prize. I’ve found liberation in putting down my shield and accepting the risks. With the good however, sometimes does come the bad. To reap the high chasing benefits, I also have to understand and accept that this comes at a price; all that glitters isn’t gold.

As my life continues to regain a level balance, I am constantly reminding myself not to simply accept and become complacent — It is far too easy to take what is given to us and we rarely demand more. To never let the negative reign. To face fear but not let it dominate has been crucial. Allowing myself to be open, honest, and vulnerable is what has helped me heal and grow. I’ve found that resiliency comes from awareness, switching on is power!

My past tells my story but it doesn’t define who I am. I’ve achieved and failed. I’ve learned and taught. I’ve been brave and weak. I’ve been loved and hurt. I’ve loved and hurt. I’ve been right and wrong. After everything though, through all the highs and lows, the most amazing part is that I want more. I want to step into the dark without a flashlight. I want to give my heart away again. I want to venture without a plan. I want to be wrong. I want to be right. I want to feel it all, again and again.

I never want to stop living my life inside out.

The Whole Truth

truth [trooth] noun, plural truths [troothz, trooths]
1. the true or actual state of a matter
2. conformity with fact or reality; verity
3. a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, principle, or the like
4. the state or character of being true
5. actuality or actual existence

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

What is it about the truth that causes us to push our thumbs into its eyeballs, praying for a quick and instant release? (wtfuckfacts via Twitter) Is it that complying with standards, rules and laws just doesn’t work for us? Or is it simply because the truth is fact. Information we are forced to accept. A reality that can make or break us.

I made a promise to myself last year, I swore that I wouldn’t back down from the truth. That no matter how many times I was in a standoff with it, violently flailing my thumbs towards its eyes, that I would never run from it. I refused to fear its ramifications. I would never let it beat me. I failed. Even after my promise to myself, I often threw my hands up whenever it confronted me in hopes that it would spare me the agony of its reality. My reality. However, through my gorgeous rose-coloured glasses, I failed to see the reality of the truth — that it wasn’t there to bind or ruin me.

We hide our scalpel and forceps under the bed for fear that the truth is going to cut too deep and expose too much. We’re scared. The pain of the examination and the length of recovery are often more than most are willing to endure. But why? If truth is reality then why can’t we stand up and face it? Because the truth is, being honest with yourself fucking sucks sometimes. It’s laborious and draining. You spend so much time forcing yourself to feel and think. Over and over again. Answering why after why after why. You’re picking at the scab as it’s trying to heal, constantly exposing the sensitive raw incision you were told to keep clean, dry and covered. But what good is bandaging an infected wound if it’s never really going to heal?

I’ve spent more time than I would like picking at myself like a fiend in an attempt to heal infections. I had moments where I gave up. I opened a Tumblr account so I could leak without really thinking, got lost in bad TV, ran until I couldn’t feel the pain and tried to get drunk and make bad decisions. Anything to distract me and stop the thinking. That didn’t work. I tried shoving my thumbs in Truth’s eyes while screaming at it to let me go but wouldn’t you know, that is exactly what it was trying to do — free me. So I went gloves off with the skeletons in my closet, some were buried so deep I almost forgot about them, and then I stood there. Too stubborn to give in until, finally, I started to feel it.

I woke up this morning lighter. Like the horse I had been dragging around with me was left in the bed. I found myself laughing during my workout and dancing like a fool around my gymbro. Ah, the good old days. A fellow gym rat commented on how my smile was contagious, Truth’s gift for victory? I know my horse is still nestled under the covers waiting for me to crawl into bed with her; It takes a while for something that big to decompose and I’m okay with that. Truth and I are seeing things a little more eye to eye these days so, like any good relationship, I’m willing to continue working on things.

One (Yes, I have three that I read. I’m a junkie!) of my horoscopes from this morning said…

An old fear may be preventing you from taking on a new opportunity. Although a lot of time has gone by – even several years, perhaps – you are still restricting yourself based on a past experience. You are really too practical and you have too much common sense for that. Forget any failures from ancient history. Let go of any fears that are meaningless. None of what happened back then is relevant. Have faith in yourself, Virgo. Take aim. Reach for your goal. You have an excellent chance of getting there.

…and I believe it. Although I don’t think what happened in the past is irrelevant, I do believe that the fear I was avoiding by not facing the truth was undoubtedly holding me back. I’m really starting to accept and realize that fear is part of the process and that it doesn’t always equate to evil. The amazing thing about facing the truth and working towards a place of inner peace is how beautiful things are from the other side. All of a sudden the people, places and things that you never thought would make you smile are now the things that are filling your soul with light … Giving you excitement, hope and that feeling deep within.

I’ve done my time and you know what, it feels good to be able to smell the sweet air of freedom.

3 … 2 … 1 …

She’s here. The beautiful, fresh face of 2012 came rolling into town as expected. With her, she brought one of the most well thought out gifts … A fresh start. There’s something amazing about watching that thin little sweep hand powerfully tick its way around the clock on December 31st at 11:59pm. The usual irritation from the rhythmic clicking suddenly becomes the metronome for your breathing, steady and consistent while you wait in anticipation.

3 … 2 … 1 … Reset!

And just like that, with all hands pointed north, one year ends and another begins. How is it that we are so fortunate to receive a fresh start every 12 months? An opportunity to flip through the pages of our stories and reflect on a year gone by. Laugh. Cry. Learn. Restart. With your ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card grasped firmly in your hand, you start to refocus, re-energize, dream and plan.

When the last couple of days were trickling out of the year, a trend started to emerge. A lot of people were happy to be kicking 2011 on the way out and were ready to embrace 2012 as their new house guest. I found this energy had me pitching my tent and occupying 2011 alongside my fellow protesters. “Good riddance 2011, we’re ready for a change!” Oh, how easy it is to blindly march into the abyss.

It wasn’t until New Year’s Day when I was groggily flopping back and forth in bed, trying to motivate my ‘new’ self to wake up, that I took a minute to really reflect about the last year. I ended the year with such a negative mind-set and completely reeking of heartbreak and despair. It was all doom and gloom and thank god it’s over. What I was missing by being so switched off was that 2011 was an incredible year for me. Let’s recap. I moved into my first place that was all mine. No roommates, no partner — all mine! I came out. Holy shit, I came out! I joined a sports team. Funny, I know. I met the most amazing, soul completing friends. I fell in love! Ooooh did I ever fall in love. Incredible.

It scares me to think that I had clouded my memories with the negative and almost lost all of the incredible. If Marvel has taught me anything it’s that good usually triumphs evil, I should know better.

This brings me to now. I’m using 2011 as my awakening, so to speak. The last couple of years, I’ve felt like the rocks have been loosely shaking under my feet — unstable and ready to slide out on the next step. Instead of tip toeing across the rocks, I’m ready to kick them out and create solid ground. Eliminate the obstacles instead of trying to hurdle them. One of my New Year’s mountain companions was telling me that “whatever you’re doing when the New Year rolls in sets the tone for your upcoming year.” Excellent! Jillian Michaels said that “…the first 12 days of your New Year determine how the rest of your year will play out.” Beautiful! Intention. Purpose. Manifestation. Creation.

Although I haven’t sat down and written out my goals for the year yet, *Note to Self: Add ‘procrastinate less’ to the list … Maybe tomorrow* I’ve been mindful of where I want my energy to be directed throughout the different areas of my life. My ever growing list is starting to look like this:

♥ Be more present in the now
♥ Remove as much negativity from my life as possible (people, situations etc)
♥ Volunteer
♥ Explore my creative side
♥ Be more aware
♥ Refocus on school/career
♥ Reconnect with and be more accepting of my Self
♥ Complete another triathlon
♥ Say what I mean and mean what I say
♥ Line myself up with like minds
♥ Stop compromising ‘me’ for people, places or things
♥ Care and fear less about the wrong things
♥ Start and stick to regular yoga/meditation
♥ Resume running with my mutty babe
♥ Be available for those who need me

And there it is, the start of my focus and intent for the year. I truly believe in putting what you want out there and making yourself accountable for it. In time, I will turn these general desires into S.M.A.R.T goals and make them my reality but right now, I need to find the perfect thank you card for 2012.

Obligatory Reflections

So here I sit, disconnected from the cellular world but still able to prevent myself from going through complete withdrawal thanks to the marvels of WiFi. Thank you, Vic Hayes. I’m hunkered down alone, next to the fireplace in a quaint cabin on top of a mountain awaiting the arrival of a new year. The soul of winter is lightly falling form the sky, blanketing my surroundings with the essence of the season.

I am exactly where I need to be right now.

My last day of 2011 started off a little somber, I woke up with the weight of the year on my shoulders and a lot on my mind. I tossed and turned in bed until I finally heard the restless rumblings of my mountain companions. Before I knew it, everyone was fed, off to the hills for first tracks and I was alone. Exactly where I needed to be. Having opted to leave my board at home and let the rest of this holiday cold work its way out of my system, I spent a few minutes absorbing the solitary environment and giving into my State of Emo. Get ready, here comes Reflection number 1: Fighting what you’re feeling or experiencing does nothing for letting go and moving forward. Now, I didn’t break out the wine and start to wallow but, I did embrace what was happening and allowed myself to experience it. As sadistic as it is, we sometimes need to experience the pain and accept the bad to feel the good. We’re nasty little creatures, aren’t we?

Knowing that my acceptance would soon turn into wine guzzling wallowing, I shook off the emo and, at the request of my weekend host for being a delinquent participant in the New Year’s Eve potluck, started wrapping marinated water chestnuts in bacon while listening to the haunting voice of Florance Welch. As the lyrics to “Shake It Out’ were vibrating through my head, I found myself thinking “My regrets collect like old friends, here to relive [my] darkest moments!” and “I’m done with my graceless heart! I’m totally gonna cut it out and then restart!!” As one song ended and the next began, I found myself continuously in awe at how much these lyrics were resonating with me. It took me back to the night I stumbled across Gotye and what he did to my soul. How is it possible that these complete strangers, people who don’t even live on the same continent as me, are able to delve into that place inside of me that only I have the misfortune of visiting and transform it into music that is such an accurate vocalization of everything I’m feeling? Oh wait, Reflection Number 2: That’s because I’m not the first, I’m not the last, I’m not the only one and I’m not alone. Ah! This must be what my beautiful streak of tigers have been trying to tell me all along. Thank god their legs are still intact (there were moments where their safety was seriously in jeopardy) because really, “You have no idea what I’m going through, MOM!”

Feeling pretty proud of myself for my new-found sense of acceptance and understanding, I put my perfectly wrapped bacon water chestnuts in the fridge and went to get ready for lunch. A couple of caesars later mixed with a full belly of food and being surrounded by some of the most beautiful souls I know, I was starting to regain a sense of peace. This brought me to Reflection Number 3: Love really does heal.

2011 was the Year of the Rabbit, it was supposed to be the year to catch your breath, calm your nerves and create stability. The focus was supposed to be directed on home and self with the intent to be ready for change in the coming year. I can confidently say that none of the above overly applied to me so, …

… What am I taking with me from this past year then?

First and foremost, that I am so incredibly blessed. I have the most amazing friends, both old and new, supporting, encouraging and catching me when I fall. Heartbreak is a fate worse than death but, unlike an encounter with the Grim Reaper, you walk away from heartbreak … scarred but alive. That no matter how many times I have my hand on my holster in a stand-off with Fear, I will always win. Life and drama really are a representation of how we respond to our external environments. You can’t control how people think or the things that they do. That it’s okay to be sad, hurt and broken as long as you learn and work to heal. Just because your trust has been demolished doesn’t mean that people aren’t worthy of it. That you need to live and let be.

This is my journey and this is exactly where I’m suppose to be.

Happy New Year my beautiful friends. Regardless of what this past year gave or took from you, I wish you the very best for 2012 and hope that you strive to make it your best year yet!

Flick the Switch

con·trol* [kuhn-trohl] verb, -trolled, -trol·ling, noun
verb (used with object)
1. to exercise restraint or direction over; dominate; command.
2. to hold in check; curb: to control a horse; to control one’s emotions.

These last couple of weeks, I’ve found myself repeatedly stumbling on the things that I can’t seem to get a grasp of. It’s sort of like pawing your way through a dark room, searching for the comfort and security of your bed, only to unexpectedly crash into the footboard. You grab your shin and scold yourself for not simply turning on the light and gently climbing into your den. It’s such an easy prevention for a completely controllable situation.

Just flick the switch.

Similarly, I’ve been silently scolding myself for the lack of control* I’ve been exhibiting lately. Whether it be shamefully hitting send on that text message that I know I shouldn’t have sent or letting my little gremlin ego temporarily take the reins over reason, and sometimes even sanity, I’ve been feeling a definite loss of control. It has been an unusual battle for me as, for the most part, I usually feel incredibly in control. So what happened, when was I ejected from the driver’s seat?

“When we experience fear, we try to exercise whatever control
we can, even if it makes things worse.”

When we’re in control, we have a sense of power; without it, we’re forced to face fear and uncertainty.  So is that it, am I simply afraid of what I don’t know? A dear friend of mine has been gently guiding me through the ‘switched off’ moments and has been reminding me to ask why. Why am I feeling and acting the way that I am? Found the answer? Good! Now, I’m supposed to start searching for the next one … and the next one. Apparently, there’s always a why behind the why. Don’t worry, it makes me spin too. I met this advice with great resistance; I wasn’t prepared or willing to pick at the overexposed, raw and vulnerable side of myself that I have been fighting so hard to protect. Life is easier with rose coloured glasses on, right?! Unfortunately, when the clear rosy hue becomes clouded, it is time to let the wounds ooze. The brutality behind self exploration is that the truth usually hurts. I’ve tried to turn a blind eye to the fact that it sometimes takes being completely uprooted and out of control before you can start to feel grounded again. It’s time for me to open my eyes.

With the New Year peeking its beautiful little eyes around the corner, I’m ready to resolve this feeling of subordination and let go of the things that are holding me back. I’m ready to embrace what is in my control and accept the things that are not.

I’m done fumbling in the dark and crashing into the footboard.

Sign On the Dotted Line

I woke up this morning to, yet again, experience that horrible sensation … The brief moment where everything feels normal, where you’re blanketed with a comforting warmth of happiness and tranquility. You feel safe.

Then it hits you, the heavy pain of realization. Everything isn’t normal. You don’t feel safe. Your heart starts pounding, you can feel it in your head. Your eyes become foggy and damp. Your ears ring with a sound you swear only a cat could hear. Your throat burns as you try to swallow the pain of what’s about to happen. You don’t want to give in but it takes over. The tears start pouring down your cheeks like cracks in a pipe. Your body vibrates as the realization sears through it. You let this happen not by choice, but because your heart is forcing you to. In an almost cruel and sadistic way, it wants to remind you of how much it’s hurting. Like it somehow forgot that you’re actually a team, not enemies. So, you yell at it. Beg and plea for it stop the pain. You begin making deals with it like you’re bartering with Lucifer himself, praying that it doesn’t see through your facade. You know you can’t keep the promises you’re making but, at this point, you’re willing to sacrifice anything to make this stop. And then it happens, almost as if you’ve signed your heart away on the dotted line … the pain starts to subside. Your breaths become a little bit deeper, slower. Your body goes from burning to an almost cool tingle. The ringing in your ears is muted and you can once again hear your dog snoring gently beside you. The tears start slowing, forming dry canals on your puffy face.

You pause. “Is that it?”

A couple of deep breaths in confirm that it’s over, for now. A temporary sense of calm starts flowing through your veins. Your pleas worked. With your fingers crossed behind your back, you promised your heart that you would never put it in this situation again. You swore that you would never allow yourself to be vulnerable, trusting or fall in love again. You take another deep breath and push out any feelings of guilt you have for lying. Knowing that the two of you are not going to see things the same right now, you accept your small victory and put another piece of putty on the cracks.

I am currently working on a new contract with my heart; one that will hopefully get us back on the same page and once again, working together as a team. But for now, we’re both just going to have to keep taking it one day at a time.